A Thing Like Life
by Kiwi Anime
Summary: I wonder what life is like, for all my friends. People like Collins, and Roger, and Mimi, and Angel. I mean, I really wonder. It’s almost frightening to me. Mark POV. Finale up! NOT MarkRoger.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **So, two years ago, I fell in love with the musical RENT. A week ago, I fell in love with the movie and rushed home to find my soundtrack. Now, I have RENT fever, and must write a fic. So, no Phantom/hack for a while. Sorry! –sob- I have RENT fever! It cannot be ignored!

**A Thing Like Life – Chapter 1**

I wonder what life is like, for all my friends. People like Collins, and Roger, and Mimi, and Angel. I mean, seriously. I really wonder. It's almost frightening to me, a thing like AIDS. Maybe that's why I always hid from the world. I was so afraid of AIDS, and the death that seemed to ensue.

I mean, AIDS took away Angel. What was AIDS like for her? Maybe it was different for Mimi, and Roger, and Collins. What about all those people from Life Support?

Well, if I learned one thing in the past year, it's that I need to face these fears. I can't hide from the world anymore. And that means going through my tapes.

I walk up the steps to the loft, the door creaking unusually loudly as I opened it. I sigh, then call out, even though I'm not sure anybody's inside. "Roger, we're going to have to oil the hinges again." Of course, my call falls on nonexistent ears: Roger's probably with Mimi now. The door clangs behind me as I walk into my room. There's my camera, lying on the bed.

I bend down on all fours, throwing up the sheets to grab some things from underneath the bed. I pull out the projector, which I had put away after Christmas Eve about two weeks ago. Then I have to crawl under the bed to pull out a box. All the material I cut from the documentary. And I knew why I had cut every last bit of it.

I slowly stand up, as if the burden of what I was doing was weighing me down. I go over to the almost blank wall and tear off a poster from some band I had never heard of. ("Hope Roger doesn't want it," I murmur, setting it idly on the bed.) I crouch down, picking the projector up and setting it lightly on a bedside table. I pull the table over to the center of the room, the legs scraping the floor loudly.

The sound of somebody opening the door. I sigh, kneeling down and looking through the tapes. "I'll just have to start at the beginning..." I pull out the first roll of film, from 1/21/90. A year ago this month, I think idly. I begin fitting the roll of film onto the projector, twining the ribbon around. After making sure everything is ready, I go over to the windows, shutting the blinds silently.

Somebody opens the door of my bedroom a crack, peeks in, but immediately shuts the door before I can turn around and face them. A moment later, the light sound of a guitar, as it is slowly tuned. I sigh again. He doesn't want to see this. He's still dealing with Mimi.

I reach over to the switch on the projector, switching it on.

An image is cast onto the blank wall of the bedroom. I blink for a moment, watching the video. It's the loft, of course. For some reason, the camera is sitting on the table behind the couch...and I'm on the couch, doing something...I get up off the bed to get a closer look. Of course. I almost laugh out loud for even questioning. I'm cutting. Had I left the camera on the table and accidentally turned it on? That's the only explination I come up with for why I'm not holding the camera. Maybe I hadn't wanted to be recording this. I don't remember this day exactly...

.-.-.

I looked over the film at the images I saw on the film, transparent. A woman getting quite irritated with a console on a partially built stage, a man struggling to play the guitar. And a couple, embracing amid chaos and fire that engulfed everything around them...

I sighed, wrapping the film back up, marking it with the date 12/24/89 with a marker I had pulled out from behind my ear, and putting it back into a box at my feet. I leaned back on the sofa, my eyes staring at the ceiling, as if it seemed to go on forever.

_I remember now. I shift slightly on the bed, getting a little more comfortable. The sound of the guitar outside mingles with the whirring of the projector as I continue to watch, my mind replaying that day in my head as I watch the image on the wall..._

Suddenly, somebody knocked on the door, soft and with a rhythmic pattern to it. I guessed who it was before I had even stood up to open the door.

The moment the door was open I was literally grabbed by somebody and pulled into a very tight embrace. "Hello, Mark! How have you been!"

I smiled lightly, hugging the transvestite back. "Hi, Angel."

Angel pulled away, as if she was so excited to see me she couldn't stand just standing there. "We haven't seen you since...was it New Years?"

I blinked, looking behind Angel, seeing a man behind her, smiling slyly. I smiled again, and the two of us pulled into an embrace. "Collins," I said. "I thought you and Angel were outta here..."

"Yeah, we were...but Angel wanted to do something here before we left." Collins was smiling big and broad. He looked happier right now that I ever remembered him being.

"And what would that be, hmm?" I said as I pulled away from Collins, turning back to Angel.

She was smiling, too. She looked just as happy as Collins. Heck, for all I knew, they had just barely gotten finished spending some 'quality time' together. It would explain both of their extreme giddiness. But Angel was always happy. That's what I always loved about Angel. "Well, we wanted to go to Life Support...and tell everybody there goodbye."

I sighed, my smile slipping away from me slightly. "Hey...have you seen Roger?"

Angel smiled at me. "Yeah, he's downstairs with Mimi."

"Figured as much," I said, shrugging. "You should see them. They're so...happy together." My smile ebbed away even more.

_I hear a thud behind me. I quickly switch off the projector, jumping up and turning around. I hadn't noticed the music stop. Roger was standing in the doorway, looking at where the image had been moments before on the blank wall. It takes a moment for him to snap out of his trance. He begins to back out of the room. "Sorry." He's out of the room before I can say anything to him._

_I sit back down on the bed, thinking. Now Iremember why I cut that part. It hurt too much seeing it...remembering how happy Angel was, and everything she had been. And then, suddenly, I had remembered my first emotions...back then was when I first began to hide..._

_I sigh again, leaning back over to the projector and switching it on._

Angel seemed to notice that something was wrong. "Mark, is something up?"

I blinked, shaking my head. "No, I'm fine. I'm...glad to see you guys!" I gave a great big smile. I didn't want them to know how I felt, not when Angel and Collins looked so happy together... they were just fine without me having to tell them something as childish as what he had been feeling lately. And what had been going on with Roger and Mimi. They really didn't need to know that they fought.

Angel's brow furrowed slightly, but she brightened up almost immediately. "I know! Why don't you come with us to Life Support? You can film some more. I bet you would really enjoy it." I didn't say anything. "Come on!"

Collins nodded. "I think Angel's right, Mark. If there's something up, why not just come and try to forget about it for a bit?"

Mark shrugged. Just run away and find a respite from all the chaos around him... "Yeah, but what about Roger? Isn't he coming?"

Angel looked down, fidgiting with the hem of her fine coat. "Well, of course we invited him. But...he's probably thinking about a lot of things right now..."

"He didn't want to come," Collins said bluntly.

I paused. "Oh." He wasn't going to Life Support? He had gone recently to their meetings. Why not today? "Well...let me get my camera gathered up, all right?" I rushed back into the loft, grabbing my bag off of the couch, making sure I had some film ready and a good battery before I went back out to join them.

"_Hey, Mark?"_

_I jump up yet again, switching off the projector yet again. I sigh, seeing Mark standing in the doorway once again. "Yeah?"_

"_I...was wondering...what are you doing?" Roger was looking at the box of film out on the floor, film he knew I had cut from my movie._

"_Oh...this?" I laugh, trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing. "Uh, I was just...looking over some old memories."_

_Roger looks up at me. "That's all?"_

_There is a short silence. Then I shrug, trying to still sound casual. "Yeah, I guess so."_

_At these words, Roger looks at the ground intently. "Well, I don't wanna bug you or anything...it's probably work for your film...?"_

"_No, it's not..." He doesn't buy my act, so I drop it. "I just...need to do this."_

_He sighs, then looks up. "I know what you mean." There is silence between us once again, and then Roger turns around to leave the room._

_I call after him. "Hey, you can stay and watch if you want-"_

"_No. ...Thanks." He rejects my request very quickly, so I leave it alone as he walks out and closes the door behind him. I look over at the clock by my bed. Ten at night. I sigh, falling down onto my bed, staring at the ceiling. Could I get through all these memories without going back into hiding again?_


	2. Chapter 2

**A Thing Like Life - Chapter Two**

_Mark has got his work! They say Mark lives for his work! And Mark's in love with his work! Mark _hides _in his work...No, I don't hide. It's not true. I'm creating art, not all those things your saying, Roger...You've got it all wrong...I..._

I wake up, startled. What was with that dream? I blink, trying to remember what had been happening. But almost the moment I try to cling onto the image, it slips away. _This is so annoying...why am I having dreams like this that wake me up and leave me breathing heavy like this? My heart's still pounding for some reason..._

I sit up, looking out the window. The sun has already risen. I raise my hands, lightly rubbing the sleep away from my eyes. My hand immediately moves to the bedside table and I grab my glasses. _When you reach for the same spot every morning from the time your eleven years old, you don't need to see it,_ I think with a slight smirk, putting on the glasses and looking around a bit more.

I had fallen asleep last night staring up at the ceiling, probably. I am still wearing my clothes, now sticking to my body unpleasantly. I look over at the old clock next to my bed: 10:00 AM. I slowly stand up, still a little groggy and half asleep. As I make my way across the room, I bump into a table in the middle of the room and jump back, seeing it wobble quite over the edge. "Shit," I say, as I grab the projector at the last minute and let the small table fall to the ground with a soft clatter.

There is the sound of somebody waking with a start from the living room. I give a short chuckle: Roger slept on the sofa again last night. He always does that when he's in a weird mood. Probably angry at himself for not being able to think up any new ideas last night. I hoist the small table up, setting the projector back on it just as the door swings open.

"Whawazzat?" His voice is slurred from just barely having woken up, making me laugh.

"Go back to sleep, you lazy ass." I bend down, picking up a roll of film that had fallen off when I bumped into the table.

Roger blinks a few times, slowly waking up. He watches me reorganize for a moment, and then finally speaks, no longer slurred. "What the hell are you doing anyways?"

I roll my eyes, knowing the Roger that has just woken up wouldn't possibly remember what he was doing right before he fell asleep the previous evening. "Nothing. Go to sleep. Maybe in your own bed."

He shakes his head to wake himself up and as a denial. "Nah. Too early. Sun's up and everything."

I look up at him, my hands re-rolling the film as I talk. "Maybe you wanna watch this with me?"

The memories of last night, however insignificant they seemed to him, come back, and he shakes his head. "Nah. I'm...gonna go on out for a while. Yeah...see ya." He steps backwards out of the doorway, shutting the door behind him.

"See ya." I sigh, wondering only for a second where he could be going. I push the matter from my mind, knowing it probably wasn't that important anyways. I turned on the switch of the camera, amazed to find myself at the spot I had stopped watching last night.

.-.-.

"January Twenty-First, Eleven A.M., Eastern Standard Time. In the park on the way to Life Support with Angel and Collins. First Shot: Angel, holding hands with Collins."

"Said Angel is dressed in a very _fine_ red skirt and white blouse this _fine_ day, I might add..."

"Collins, I'm the film maker, I do the commentary."

"Easy, Honey." Angel looked over her shoulder at me as I walked behind the two of them, filming them. I remained silent, not wanting to mess up my documentary more than Collins already had.

The snow around us made Angel's white blouse almost seem to glow. I wondered for a moment why she wasn't wearing a coat, and, for that matter, why she didn't look cold. _Can you really be impervious to something like being cold if you're that in love?_

"All righty, here we are!" Angel almost skipped up the steps of the community center, dragging Collins along with her. I had to jog up the steps so that I didn't lose my focus on the two of them. We walked through the building, finally finding our way to the room where Life Support was held once a week.

I situated my extra equipment in a chair outside of the circle and then made sure my battery had enough juice before planting myself just outside the circle as the group welcomed Angel and Collins.

Paul was talking to them, softly and quietly. "Who wants to go first?"

I heard a newcomer who was sitting next to Angel say to her, "We're discussing ways we have felt better about ourselves in the past week."

A woman wearing a big, puffy sweater raised her hand. Paul nodded. "Go ahead, Susan."

She took a deep breath, nodding back. "Call me Sue." There was a pause as I focused my camera on her and zoomed in on her face. "Well...I was taking the Metro North to visit my grandmother...and I heard somebody talking about drugs. And..." She faltered.

Paul merely smiled calmly. "How did you feel when you heard this person talking about drugs?"

Her eyes drifted to the ground as she continued, smirking lightly. "Well...I thought, 'I haven't used for over a year now.'" Her smirk widened slightly. "And...I was really proud of myself."

There was some soft congratulations from the others, and then Paul said, "Thank you very much, Sue. Now, who wants to go next?" There was silence. "Nobody?" I was re-focusing my camera, twiddling with a lens so that the entire group was in focus. Suddenly, I saw Paul look at me through the lens. "What about you, Mark?"

_I laugh softly. God, I felt like an idiot that day at Life Support, I think. I went there almost every week, filming them for this documentary. I don't think Paul ever asked me a question another time after that day..._

I stuttered softly as I lowered my camera slightly, looking at Paul over the still filming camera. "Err...me?"

Paul nodded. "Did anything happen to you this week that made you feel good?"

My face was red, and I knew very well it was. "Well...I, uh...sorry, wasn't expecting this..."

Paul smiled. "Anything at all."

I looked up from my camera, looking at him right in the eye. There was a pause, and then I spoke. "Well...I was looking through my...uh, my footage...the other day. And...well, I found...some footage of...a bunch of my friends and me. And...well, we were all looking happy." I sounded like an idiot, and I knew _that_ very well. "And I...uh, thought, 'If it was happy then, it'll be happy...soon.'"

Silence. Then Paul spoke. "Thank you. We must always remember that, no matter how hard yesterday might have been, there are happy times now we can think about."

"Yeah," I blurted out. A few people look at me oddly, and I back away, emerging myself once again completely into watching them through the camera.

_That's why Paul never asked me a question during Life Support again, I think with another laugh._

Paul then looked around at the rest of them. "Does anybody else want to share something with us?"

Out of the blue, Angel raised her hand. "I have something to say."

After a moment of silence, Paul nodded. "Go ahead, Angel."

Angel smiled. "Well, life's been a bit tough lately. Me and my sweetie here have been trying to find a place to live, and it's not very easy." She squeezed Collin's hand slightly. "But every day I tell him how much I love him, and he tells me the same thing back." She smiled broadly. "That's what I have to feel happy about. I have somebody to love."

_I get up suddenly, switching off the projector. I feel the tears stinging my eyes, wanting to burst forth, but I wouldn't let them. Not only was Angel's love so strong it warmed her from the harsh January winter. It gave her happiness and joy when others could only see hopelessness._

_I wanted that kind of love, after that. I wanted to find somebody to love, to take care of me. I wanted to use the kind of love Angel had to escape from the pains of the world. But it didn't seem possible. My heart seemed to have gone numb. So I hid myself further in my camera._

_My eyes drift over to my camera, lying next to my bed. I almost felt like glaring at it. It had 'protected' me so falsely. It had 'saved' me from worrying about everybody else. I dived into it, thinking I was safe. But it showed it's true colors on Halloween. Didn't it?_

_I sigh, my eyes closed. I can't have been watching for that long. I open my eyes, looking back at the clock. ...Eleven? How could that little piece of film have taken a full hour? I shrug, sighing. I was getting a little too involved in this digging back. But I couldn't stop my mission yet. I had to look through as many of these tapes I had cut. I had to. In there was the key to escaping from my solitude. ...Maybe._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Woo hoo! All the reviews I've gotten lately have cheered me up so much. I haven't been having the best week ever lately (long story), and all these reviews are really cheering me up. So, I had a MAGOR writing surge, so here's a nice long chapter for you! Biiiiig chapter! WHEE!

P.S.: There is **language** in this chapter. You no like language...well, you shouldn't even really like RENT if you don't like language, but whatever. Psycho. But, anyways, you no like language, you no like...this chapter. Again, why would you like RENT if you don't like language? WHATEVER. Nevermind. RAMBLE.

**A Thing Like Life – Chapter Three**

"Mark?"

I jump up suddenly. I had been sitting on my bed, staring at the wall, oblivious to the world around me. I didn't realize until I was conscious of Roger standing in my now open doorway that tears had been falling down my cheeks silently. I immediately turn away from Roger, hating it when he saw me like this. _Why the hell am I crying?_

"Mark, were you...?"

"I'm fine," I croak out. "Really." I hear Roger shifting slightly in the doorway, knowing from my voice I'm not fine. I can also hear some movement in the living room, telling me that Mimi must be here now. "Roger, please. I'm fine."

I feel a hand on my shoulder. "Mark, if you..."

I duck away, gathering up the tangled sheets from my old bed. "Just...Roger, I'm OK." I make as if to start making my bed, which probably tells Roger something, since I never make my bed.

"Mark, if it's this hard for you to watch all that..." He falters for a moment, as if expecting me to cut him off. But now I am silent, so he continues. "Why don't you come out with me and Mimi? We...uhh, were gonna go to this place and hang out..." I keep making my bed, my eyes stinging from holding back whatever tears wanted to burst forward. "...We'll be back later. You'll be OK without us, right?"

"Roger, I'm not a kid. You two go have some fun." I manage to keep my voice calm, and this seems to be enough to satisfy my roommate. After a moment's pause, I hear his footsteps as he walks out of my room, shutting the door for me behind him. I hear some muffled talking between him and Mimi as I finish making my bed, and then hear them leave the loft.

_He's happy. Angel was happy. Is that why I'm crying? Am I just lonely? Or is it more...?_

I sigh, long and almost worn out. I go over to the projector, taking the film from that day at Life Support out and putting it back in the box by my bed. I rummage through the box a little more, looking for the next roll to watch. I spot one I know I hadn't put in my film, since I have scribbled out the date with my marker for some reason. For some reason my hands shake as I weave the film into the projector and turn it on, sitting down on the bed.

_What will I see now?_

.-.-.

"February Sixth, Four PM, Eastern Standard Time. A week before Valentines Day. I am in the loft alone, listening to some shouts above me. Pan to the cloudy skyline out the window, covered in an odd smog."

I filmed out of the window blankly for a moment or so, transfixed by the odd sunlight. I heard more shouts above me, and suddenly the slam of a door as somebody walked out onto the fire escape. I backed away from the window as loud footsteps clattered down until Roger climbed in through the window, his guitar in hand, his face red. He seemed to not notice me as he fell onto the couch, breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling, as I filmed his every move. There was silence, the only sounds the film going through my camera and Roger's heavy breathing.

Out of the blue, there is a harsh shout. "Mark, can you turn that thing off?"

I blinked, obliging.

_The film goes dead for a minute as I stare at the image on the wall. I find myself struggling to remember what had happened...but it didn't take long for the film to resume playing._

"February Si-"

"Mark, you said it already, didn't you? Do you _need_ to say it again?"

"Well...no. OK, Roger, just talk." I held the camera steady on him, messing with the camera a minute more so that Roger's face is in focus. He was sitting on the couch, looking straight at my camera

"OK. You said you wanted to look deep into what people with AIDS were thinking, right? Well, I'll tell you right now, Mark. I hate it. I hate it so _fucking_ much, I don't think I can stand it much longer." He was breathing hard again.

I faltered. "You sure you wanna do this?"

"Mark, just let me talk to the inanimate object, will you!" I fell silent. "You see, with AIDS, you don't know quite when it's going to strike. It just keeps stalking you, and the second you let down your guard, you know it's going to hit like some tornado in Kansas or something."

I blinked, but I didn't look at Roger directly, only watching him through the camera. It was a way of me being able to see him without looking him in the eyes. "Roger, are you saying...?"

"I'm not saying anything except I don't know when it's gonna hit next, OK? I mean, I think I've found somebody I love, and I mean _really_ love...and they leave me."

"...Roger, I don't think that's AIDS' fault, and I _don't_ think Mimi's left you."

"Sure she has. She still sleeps with me, and she still hugs me, and she still kisses me...but she's not just mine anymore, Mark." He was talking to me, now. "And April...I felt it, long before she died. I had lost her. And I'm losing Mimi too. I...I was able to stop. I did it."

"I know."

"But...she isn't...she won't. And...it's just like April, Mark." I knew he wanted me to look at him, instead of watching him through the camera, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't stand facing him in the eye. Right now, I was not really a part of this conversation. It was Roger talking to a camera. And it was easier...

Roger turned away from me. "You're not gonna turn that thing off, are you?"

I faltered once again. "I..."

"No. Of course you aren't." He picked up his guitar and began playing.

I lowered my camera. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," he said quickly. "Just forget about it. I...just wanna be alone for a minute."

I sighed, setting my camera down and turning it off.

_I stare at the blank screen. I am completely numb now, stunned. Roger had seen me getting like this a long time before Halloween. But he hadn't let it out. He didn't wanna tell me. Why? I get up, moving to the projector to remove the film, when suddenly..._

"OK, Mark, I dunno how the fuck you work this dumb thing...Oh, I hear it. It's on."

_Oh my god. He's holding the camera, pointing it at himself, filming himself. He obviously was just barely able to figure out how to turn it on, so the picture on the wall is slightly blurry and out of focus. But I know it's him. I freeze, staring at the picture on the wall. How had I never seen this before...?_

Roger set the camera on a table, pointing it at himself, sitting on the couch. "I don't think I'll ever get a shot with this thing ever again, so I better take my opportunity. You've just gone out with Collins and Angel to another Life Support thing. But I didn't want to go. You sure tried to make me, though."

_Of course I did, you idiot. It was the third week in a row you hadn't gone._

"And you reminded me to take my stupid AZT." He held up a pill for the camera, waving it in front of the lens before putting it on his tongue and swallowing. "See? Now, every day, I get to remember that I have this. You asked me right before you turned on your stupid camera to just talk to the camera. But I couldn't. Because I was trying to talk to _you._"

He paused, looking away from the camera. "I don't know if you'll even ever see this. I'll be careful to make sure you don't see it immediately, though."

_HE'S the one who scribbled out the date. It all makes sense now._

"But, in case you ever do...I want to tell you, you can't figure out how I feel. You can _never_ figure out. Because AIDS throws you at the mercy of the whole world. That's what it does. It just throws you out, defenseless, and laughs at you while doing it. And if somebody comes along and decides to hurt you, you can't do anything about it. You can't hide anything. Not like _you_."

_I freeze. Oh, God..._

"_You_ get to hide. _You_ never looked me in the eye _once_ while you were talking to me with that camera on. So you can hide. Well, maybe I can put it into perspective for you. Imagine AIDS was that big thug on the street you ran into a few years ago. Remember that?"

_Sure, I remember. I was about to get mugged, and you saw me and saved me by threatening the guy with a knife you didn't have._

"Well, let's say I didn't show up, Marky. Let's say that AIDS took me away. Not only that, it took away your precious camera too. Anything and everything you use to _hide_ from the world I've been thrown into, AIDS takes it away. Just _try_ to imagine that."

_I am shaking uncontrollably now. It was as if Roger was right there, yelling at me, accusing me of all those things, just like he had Halloween..._

"Can you imagine it, Mark? Well, if you can, then you feel a FRACTION of what I feel every day. So really, you trying to sympathize with us, trying to tell us to not deny our emotions, telling us to just 'talk to the camera', that's just you hiding even more. And you've been getting worse lately. I'm losing my best friend to a _camera_, Mark. Just like you lost your ex to a girl. Mark, I'm losing you. I'm losing everybody..."

_The film cuts short. The projector keeps going, the film getting tangled up from trying to keep rolling when there's nothing left. I jump up, my tears flowing freely now, as I turn off the projector, saving the film before it gets damaged beyond repair. Then I blink, wondering why I'm trying to save it. I angrily grab the film, opening up my bedroom door to throw the dumb film out the window..._

"_Mark?"_

_I jump backwards, seeing Mimi in the doorway...and Roger behind her. "Mark, what are you doing?" Mimi sounds confused, looking between me and the film I'm holding with an odd look on her face._

_Roger walks by Mimi, confused. I can't help the angry tears, now. I glare at him, all those things he said echoing in my head... "Mark? What the hell is up..." He spots the film I am holding, and sees the scribbled out date. A moment of confused silence, and then realization. "Oh, God..."_

"_Yeah, Rog. Now it all comes back, huh?" I make for the window, ready to throw it out. Just as I am about to let loose, throwing away all those memories, a strong hand grabs my arm, stopping me from moving any more. Roger spins me around to look at him, his eyes concerned. Those green eyes...I hated them at the moment..._

"_Mark, calm down. When I said those things...that was a long time ago. Mark, just..."_

"_Just what!" I am furious at him, trying to pull myself out of his strong grip. "Act like none of it happened?"_

"_No, I want you to just calm down." His voice is calm, but I feel it slowly escalating. He keeps his grip firm._

_I try still to release myself from his grasp. "Let go of me, you..."_

"_You what? Just let it out. I won't take any of it personally. You have every right to be mad right now. Just let it out. You'll be that much closer to letting go.'_

_My anger finally bursts forth. "I'm not the only one who hides! YOU hid too! Remember? You hide just as much as I hide, if not MORE!"_

_Roger keeps looking at me in the eyes, holding back the hurt. "What else? Come on, I expect more from you after seeing that."_

"_More! I could go on for YEARS about you, Roger!" I'm screaming now, completely lost. "You, with...with your guitar...and..." Suddenly I'm on my knees, on the ground, sobbing, hating myself just as much as I hated Roger. "GOD, I HATE YOU!"_

_I feel Roger kneel down next to me as well, lifting me up. "Come on." He lifts me up, grabbing me under the armpits and hoisting me up until I'm standing, leaning against him, too weak to stand. He leads me over to the couch as I sob uncontrollably. I don't even think about Mimi as she stares at the two of us, now sitting on the couch._

_Roger turns me to face him. "Mark, stop this. Calm down."_

_I couldn't... "I can't..."_

"_Yes you can. Just calm down and let me say something."_

_We sit together on the couch. I feel Mimi sit down next to me as well, rubbing my back lightly with her hand. After a while (I'm unaware how long) I have calmed down to the point that I am simply shaking. I want to get as far away from Roger as I can...I hate him..._

"_OK, now you're going to listen to what I want to say. Forget what you just heard."_

_How can I forget it! Would you forget it if somebody said all that to you?_

"_Mark, you're not like that anymore. I get why you're watching that now. And I'm telling you that you don't need it anymore. Sure, you still use that camera. But I'm seeing more and more of my best friend every day. You're getting better. We're both getting better. It's hard, but I think we can make it."_

_I take a deep breath. "I...I'm sorry..."_

"_You? Sorry? Why the hell are you sorry? I'm sorry. For saying those things. I know it was ages ago, but there's something about seeing it again...I had hoped after finishing you would never see it. I guess we can't all get our wishes."_

_I am still breathing heavily. Roger continued. "Tell you what. From now on, we're both going to work together and stop hiding. I'll watch the rest of your cut film with you. Because we both need to help each other get through this. I'll help you. But you gotta help me."_

_I look up at him. "Deal." I hate my voice that croaks out at him. Hate it very strongly. But Roger simply smiles and holds his hand out, as if to shake hands. I nod, taking his hand in mine, and we shake._

_Roger stands up from the couch. "Here, before we get on with all this movie stuff, why don't we go get something to drink?"_

_I stand up, an eyebrow raised. "You kidding? I haven't gotten seriously drunk for ages."_

"_You're long overdue, buddy." He gives me a clap on the back with his hand, smiling at me. I smile back. Not a big toothy grin. But it is a smile none the less. And it felt good._

"_But your leaving the camera behind."_

_I stammer. "Wh-what! But...think of all the people we'll get to pass by! I might miss my next chance at a really good documentary!"_

"_You'll live." And as he smiles back, I see multiple meanings behind that little phrase..._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Sorry. I never apologized for the language in the last chapter. Whoopsies. Sorry if you stumbled on that and didn't like it. I'm fixing it so I have a note at the beginning warning you guys in case I offended anybody. No language this time. I don't think...I write very spontaneously. If I feel like they would swear, they swear. If I think it sounds weird, they don't. RAMBLE! Dammit. Those of you who know me know I ramble WAY too much. And I've been so good in this story. RAMBLE, RAMBLE, RAMBLE. –zippy the lippy-

**A Thing Like Life – Chapter Four**

"Come on, Mimi, just a few more steps..." I carry Mimi up the steps, Roger on her other side, laughing at Mimi and her drunken swagger.

Mimi turns to look at me. "Hey, Mmmark. You knnnow that mmmovie thhhingy you're gonna wwwatch?"

"What about it, Mimi? WOAH, no," I pull Mimi back up as she misses the next step and starts slipping down a step, "we're going _up_ the stairs, not down."

"I was jjjust thhhinking...did you evvverrrr get some good shhhhots of mmme 'n my Rrrogerrr getting it onnnn?" She's so drunk she doesn't seem able to get much farther. Thankfully, Roger and I finally hoist her up onto the landing, as Roger uses his free hand to turn the handle and shoves the door open to drag Mimi into the loft and throw her onto the couch as she laughs loudly.

"Don't think so. You always lock the door." I don't bother pointing out that at the time I was making that movie she and Roger were still fighting as Roger laughs at his girlfriend.

Mimi goes off rambling about something, and Roger turns to me. "How much did she drink?"

I shrug. "No idea. Thank god the bartender knew her and let us off on her drinks. We only had to pay for my one and your one."

Roger looks away and puts his hand on Mimi's forehead. "I hope she doesn't get herself sick."

I laugh. "Mimi? She's fine. She could drink all night and she'd shrug it off." I roll my eyes, going into my room.

Just before I'm about to shut the door behind me, I hear Roger say something suddenly. "Mark, are you going in to watch those clips again?"

I freeze, opening the door a little wider as I turn to face him. "Yeah. I'll be cool. I need to do this. You just make sure Mimi's OK."

I'm about the shut the door again when Roger is suddenly there, holding it open. "I don't know if you should watch those alone..." His eyes wander to the ground, as do mine. There is a silence between us. I know he's worried about me, worried I'll come across something like the last thing I found. Suddenly, Roger continues. "I think you're right. Mimi's going to be cool in there. Look. She's gone to sleep and everything."

I look over Roger's shoulder, and, sure enough, Mimi is dozing away on the couch. I laugh, shrugging. "You ready to start this?"

Roger nods. "Let's get going."

I let him come into the room, shutting the door so as not to wake Mimi while we're watching. I pick up the box, looking for the next tape. "Let's see...March Seventeenth, Nineteen-Ninety."

"St. Patty's Day? You serious?" Roger laughs. "Wonder how drunk we got."

"I didn't get drunk, psycho," I say, as I pull out the film, winding it into the projector as usual. "You were the one who got completely wasted, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." He smirks slightly. "Why the hell did you cut St. Patty's Day? What happened then?"

I'm silent as I switch on the projector. "Just watch."

.-.-.

"March Seventeenth, 10:00 PM, Eastern Standard Time. Saint Patrick's Day. The whole gang is out getting drunk, even though Roger and Mimi are avoiding each other again."

_I glance at Roger, but he doesn't look at me, simply watching the image on the blank wall. I turn back, wondering if he missed the comment or something._

"First Shot: Roger, getting completely drunk. He won't be able to get home at this rate." I laughed, filming Roger as he toasts random objects and downs another mug of beer.

_Roger laughs, turning to look at me. "Yep, I got drunk."_

"_I already said that." Even though I'm a little annoyed, I can't help smirking. _

"'Course I'll get home! We're just across the street!" Roger laughed wildly.

I laughed at Roger and spoke in an undertone to the camera. "Amazingly, the beer has not left him completely void of ability to make coherent words and string them together. That's a record for him at this point."

"_You little..." Roger makes as if to do something, but I simply laugh. It's easier watching it with Roger's commentary. Normally I would have hated it, but it's not so bad now._

I felt a tap on my shoulder, and I quickly lowered my camera to see Mimi behind me. I raised my eyebrows, questioning her. She jerked her head to a table away from the bar, and, after a sideways glance at Roger, I got up, going over to her and sitting down. I raise my camera to face her, looking at her over the camera. She never minded it as much as Roger usually did.

"What's up?" She looked really concerned about something.

She glanced over at Roger, who is still drinking and toasting things like 'Kleenex'. "It's..."

I fidgeted slightly, pulling my camera up as if to make sure it's focused correctly on her. The image sharpened slightly, and I kept my camera raised, watching Mimi through the camera. "Mimi, I'm not sure I'm the one to talk about this with..."

Mimi looked desperate. "You're his roommate. You've known him a lot longer than me...and maybe you can answer a question I have."

I grew quite uncomfortable, but I worked very hard not to show it. "Ok. Shoot."

Mimi sighed. "Well...I was wondering...how has he been lately?"

That wasn't the question I had been expecting. "Erm...what do you mean?"

She seemed to be getting nervous too. "I mean...with everything. He's been acting really funny lately..."

"Well, if you're talking about now, I think you're judging him at a bad time." At the present he was speaking in an Irish accent with Collins, who was also getting considerably drunk. I could hear the two of them saying things like 'Top o' the morning!' at the top of their lungs.

"Mark, come on. Seriously. Like...with the AIDS and all." It had obviously taken a lot of work for her to muster up the courage to say that.

I blinked, still watching her through the camera. "Yeah, I guess..."

"_You're not looking at her." Roger says it like it was an average comment, but it only drove the dagger that was currently digging into my heart in further. I remain silent, watching the film as it continues to roll._

"What? Did you think he was...getting sick or something?

She sighed. "No, you take good care of him. I swear, sometimes I think he's so careless he'd forget to take his pill if you didn't constantly remind him." Her eyes drifted to the table, looking at her twiddling thumbs. "But...it can be hard sometimes. Dealing with it all."

She paused, as if expecting me to say something. I remained silent, however, simply filming her. She therefore decided to continue. "I mean, thinking all the time, 'I'm going to die someday'...it can really get to a person. It gets to me...and bad. Sometimes the only thing that keeps me going is Roger. If he was to leave me..."

"Mimi, I don't think he's going to leave you." I said it very strongly as if I was a hundred percent sure he would never leave her. But I hid my fears about their relationship. They had been fighting so much lately.

"I mean, before, all I could use to get away from it all was...you know..." Her thumbs kept twiddling, circling each other furiously. "...The thrill. The high I got off of it. But Roger...he gives me something more. And the high I got off of smack doesn't come near it..." She laughed lightly. "I dunno, this probably doesn't make sense to you..."

"Kinda..." I sighed, lowering my camera. "We'd better go stop Roger before he does something stupid."

_The footage cuts short. I rise mechanically and begin to remove the film from the projector. I pretend to not hear the sobs coming from my bed where Roger sits as I re-roll the film into it's canister. I duck underneath the table, setting the film back into the box. I kneel there, resting my head in my hands._

_Roger's voice is racked with sobs as he speaks out. "I-I-I was such an idiot, Mark..."_

_I get up, going immediately to Roger, sitting beside him. "Both of us were. And we can't change the past."_

"_Then why the hell are we re-living it!" Roger looked up at me, tears falling from his face. "Why are we going through this again? Are we all sadists or something?"_

_I cast my eyes down. "I'm doing it because I've feared the past for so long. I need to do this for myself. You don't have to go through this with me."_

_Roger breathes heavily for a moment. "I'm doing it with you, whether I like it or not." He breaks down again, sobbing, hiding his face in his hands. I put my arms around him, hugging him tightly._

"_OK, now it's my turn, buddy. Just calm down. Everything's...fine." But is it really fine? Am I really watching this for a purpose?_

_Maybe we are all sadists, a mean little voice tell me from the dark corners of my mind._


	5. Chapter 5

**A Think Like Life – Chapter Five**

Roger just keeps crying into my shoulder, continually saying Mimi's name over and over. I sigh, hugging him, telling him that Mimi loves him no matter what.

I haven't even noticed the time fly by. I hear a soft knock on the door, and Mimi knocks, seeing Roger immediately and rushing to him. I stand up, letting Mimi take my place. She holds him, kissing him on the neck, then on the cheek, then the lips. They kiss each other, and for some reason it makes my heart writhe.

_Am I jealous? All this film has just proved that I can't seem to get my hand on the love I've seen around me. Roger and Mimi love each other so much, they over look all the stupid stuff they've done to each other and embrace without a care. Maureen and Joanne...their love is debatable, but it's still there. And Collins...he loves Angel so much, not even death has parted him from her..._

_I want that love..._

Mimi lifts Roger up, whispering softly into his ear. She turns to me, smiling. "I'm taking him downstairs to my place."

I smile back. "You sure you're feeling better, Mimi?"

She smiles back, and I see the clarity in her eyes as she nods. "I just need to take care of Rog for a minute."

I nod, holding the door open for her as the two of them stagger out, Roger's arm over Mimi's shoulder. I shut the door behind them and stand at the door, listening as they make their way out of the loft and down the stairs to Mimi's place.

I sigh, collapsing on my bed, looking at the clock. It's not even nine yet (8:54), and yet I am exhausted. I bend down, taking my shoes off and my shirt, and collapse on the bed. I hear it creak underneath my weight, but for some reason the sounds of the springs are whispers when compared to my own thoughts...

.-.-.

"Hey, Mark, come on. Get up."

My eyes open, and I blink a few times. I see Roger over me, and I close my eyes, rolling over in bed. "I'm too tired."

"Get up, you lazy ass." Roger is determined to wake me up. I sigh, reaching over to the table to grab my glasses, but to my astonishment I cannot find them. Only then do I feel the glasses shoved against my face. I sit up, slowly, pushing my glasses up a bit to rub the sleep from my eyes.

"And put a shirt on. Nobody wants to see a skinny Jew body like yours unclothed." Roger throws a shirt at me, and I sleepily catch it, giving him a sleepy glare as I pull it over my head. I'm slowly waking up, and I turn to look at Roger to see him laughing. I blink, confused.

"What the hell is so funny?"

Roger only laughs more when he looks up at me. "You have the worst case of bed head I've ever seen." My hand goes to the top of my head, confirming the truth. I roll my eyes as Roger laughs some more. I hear him over by the projector, messing with the film.

I am now more awake than ever as I rush over to the projector, swatting him away! "Hey! Don't mess with that! We don't have the money to replace it!"

"Woah, sorry!" He back away, hands raised, mocking. "Don't want to make the amazing Picasso of the film angry, now, do we?"

I grumble, muttering Hebrew expletives under my breath (At least Sunday school was good for something) as I take the film out myself, rolling it back up and putting it in the box under the table. I begin looking for the next film to watch as Roger sits on the bed, still laughing at me. "You're feeling better, I see."

Roger falls silent. "Err...yeah. Sure." He obviously is just as angry at himself for breaking down last night as I was yesterday afternoon. He returns to his usual rough self as I pull out the next roll of film, labeled 4/1/90.

I turn to look at him as I begin putting the film into the projector. "You ready this time?"

"When's this one from?"

"April Fools." I grumble, turning back to the projector. Everybody knows how much I hate April Fools Day, since I'm almost always the butt of all the pranks. Roger laughs the second I say it, making me mutter a bit more. (Thank God Roger never really bothered with any kind of church. He'd be swearing back at me if he understood what I was saying.) I switch on the projector, settling myself on the bed a few feet away from Roger as he begins to calm down.

"Oho...I can't wait..."

.-.-.

"April First, 1:00 AM. Eastern Standard Time. I have just been woken by my stupid roommate."

"_SHUT UP!" Roger is laughing very loud now, almost too loud for me to hear my own groggy voice._

Roger laughed at me, dancing in front of the camera. "Oh, come on, Mark! I didn't want you to miss a SECOND of your _favorite day of the year_!"

"Yeah, yeah. You realize I have stuff on here that would make your head spin!" I glared at Roger through the camera, hating him. I kept swaying slightly, since I was still very tired.

"Oh, stop being such a spoil sport!" Roger punched me lightly on the shoulder. "Everybody loves April Fools!"

"Yeah, _everyone,_" I grumble, turning away from Roger. "Pan to the window, where the sky is completely dark. Men are not meant to be woken up this early." I kept the camera facing the window, turning to face Roger. "Why the _hell_ did you decide to wake me up this early anyway!"

"Like I said! Don't want you to miss a second of this wonderful day!" Roger was still laughing at me.

"_You know, the look on your face that morning was absolutely priceless-"_

"_Shut up."_

I sighed, turning back to filming out of the window, watching an airplane flying overhead. "Why aren't you up with Mimi, anyways? Hmm?" I wasn't usually this harsh about him and Mimi, but I was always in a bad mood when I was tired.

That shut up Roger. "We had a fight last night."

I froze, knowing I had gone into very uncomfortable territory. "I...I'm sorry..." I didn't want to turn to face him, and simply kept staring out the window through my camera.

"Yeah, forget it." I heard Roger walking away and heard the door out of the loft open as he stormed away, slamming it shut. I sighed, long and loud, and shut off the camera.

_Silence as we watch the screen. It's too uncomfortable of a moment for either of us to turn and say something to each other. Neither of us know what to say. So we just wait for the film to start up again._

"April First, 5:00 PM. On the Subway with Collins, on our way to Central Park to meet the others for a 'picnic'." I kept my camera on Collins. He didn't look like he was hiding any big secret, so I had agreed to come along. I didn't trust him completely.

_Roger's reaction was completely different this time the film started him. There was a loud intake of breath as if somebody had just punched him in the stomach. I remained silent, knowing what was going to happen eventually._

"Yeah, as much of a picnic as we can handle." Collins shrugged, smiling. He looked so odd, without Angel. Angel had caught a little cold, so she had insisted he go on without her. I could see easily the pain in his eyes that for the first time I could remember since Christmas he wasn't accompanied by the one he loved...

"Why are we having a picnic today of all days?" I watched Collins through the camera, eager to change the subject.

Collins shifted uneasily. "It was Angel's idea. She thought we were getting a bit...unsettled, and suggested we get together to have some...togetherness."

I sighed. Angel was exactly right. Maureen andJoanne were apart again, and I strongly suspected that Roger had just left Mimi...for whatever reason. "Yeah." We remained silent the rest of the way up there, as I filmed random people as they got off and on the subway. I was in the middle of filming a particular bum who hadn't moved since we had gotten on when I heard our exit called out on the jumbled intercom. I gathered up my stuff, the camera still rolling, and got off with Collins after both of us had made sure we had everything.

It was only a short walk to Central Park from the subway. Collins seemed to be feeling a little better at the prospect of bringing everybody together for a picnic. I saw a glimmer of the skip in his step I was used to as I filmed him. Occasionally I would turn away from Collins as we walked down the sidewalk and film homeless bums on the street corners. All looking just as bad as he usually felt...

We reached the park and were greeted at the entrance by the sullen group of friends. Mimi and Roger were not looking at each other at all, and Maureen and Joanne were about ten feet away from each other, doing anything to avoid contact. Maureen had been talking to Mimi when I shyly piped up. "Hey, guys."

Roger looked up, happy for an excuse to not have to even remotely think of Mimi. "Hey. Sorry 'bout this morning."

I shrugged. "It's OK." I suddenly had to deal with an atypically (not) hyper Maureen as she began to complain about how I had my camera with me and could not confront Roger and forgive him properly.

Meanwhile, Mimi went right up to Collins, giving him a great big hug, Joanne following suit. It was only until I heard Mimi that Maureen stopped. "Hey, how is Angel doing anyways?"

Collins fell silent. The rest of us turned to look at him, expectantly. Collins croaked out uneasily. "I may be taking her to the hospital soon. She's not looking good." His eyes were glued to the cement of the pathway, solemn and depressed. Mimi left the topic alone, and the rest of us followed suit. We began walking through the park as I filmed everyone in turn. It felt odd not having Angel with us, and it seemed to be having an effect on everyone. Friends that would have been talking seemed to be standing around, awkwardly avoiding each other. I remained silent, watching the lukewarm interactions. Collins was left to make idle conversation with Mimi, who had rushed right up to him and begun talking about something random to keep away from Roger.

I found myself walking next to Roger, and tried to initiate a conversation. "OK, what's up?"

He looked up, as if expecting me to ask that question all along, as he answered very quickly. "Up? Nothing's up. Why would you think that?"

I blinked, and made a quick motion with my head towards Mimi, who was still talking idly to Collins as we walked. Roger's face grew cold immediately. "Don't get me started."

I should have never brought it up. Mimi musts have sensed my reference to her, and said very loudly to Collins, "SO, how is work going for you?" She was obviously trying to make it obvious to Roger she was _not_ paying attention and didn't care, but it obviously came across the entirely opposite way.

Roger glared over at her. "What's up, you ask, Mark? Hmm? Maybe you should ask Mimi. Plenty has been up with her, no doubt..."

Mimi's eyes grew cold, but she refused to face him. "Collins, do tell me about that time..."

"Yeah, LOTS has been up with her. Like she's been visiting a few friends..." I backed away, as if heat between them was making it unbearable to stand in their way.

"THAT TIME...you were at M.I.T...you know what I'm talking about, don't you?" Mimi was doing a very bad job of acting uninterested for somebody of her profession.

"Has she told you anything, MARK?" I flinched, backing away a bit more as Roger began to yell. "Maybe a bit about her friend Benny..."

Mimi snapped, rounding on him. "YOU are being SO immature! Why do you think I would do that!"

Maureen jumped up suddenly. "Hey, guys, come on." She was trying to calm things down.

Unfortunately, that didn't work. Joanne suddenly stood up, rounding on Maureen. "Maureen, I don't think this is your place to quarrel...it's kinda the pot calling the kettle black?"

"ME? Immature? You're the one who's CHEATING on me!"

"What! Pot calling the ke- Pookie, I love you! Isn't that enough?"

"CHEATING! Why the HELL would I do that!"

"Maureen, I question THAT fact sometimes!"

I began backing away even further, wanting to run away from this entire situation. Collins was sitting down on a bench, his face in his hands. "Please...please..."

"How the hell should I know, you whore!"

"Well, it's not that easy, loving such a BITCH!"

I couldn't stand it much longer. Their yells were pounding down on me like a hammer...

"THAT'S IT!" Mimi stormed past Roger, passing me. She paused in front of me, tears falling from her eyes. "You must be a saint, Mark. How the HELL can you LIVE with such a BASTARD!" I couldn't say anything, only watching her as she left. Roger watched her go, too, fuming.

Joanne lost it, too. "I give up! I GIVE UP!" She stormed away as well, in the opposite direction, deeper into the park, towards her office in the city. Maureen gave her a horrible look as she went, then stomped away, towards her apartment. There wasn't even a moments pause before Roger let out a furious yell and rushed off in the direction of the subway station that would take him to the loft.

I could do nothing but collapse on the nearest bench. I could faintly hear Collins sobbing. Bleakly, wearily, I called out, "Is nobody going to come back and say 'April Fools' or something?" I turned off my camera, defeated.

_Silence between us. I got up again and turned off the projector, beginning to re-wind the film into it's canister. Roger finally got the guts to speak up. "I'm sorry. Not just for that time...but all those times me and Mimi fought. You had to watch us do it, and...it wasn't fair...I'm sorry, Mark..."_

_I put the canister back into the box, sitting down onto the bed (I had to constrain myself from collapsing entirely) and exhaling loudly. "I know" was all I could say. We sat there, not knowing what else to say. What else was there to say?_

.-.-.

**A/N: **Woo hoo! Had another long chapter. Only because of all the extra stuff I had to put in before the actual film stuff started. Hope you liked the spare bits of humor in this chapter, and all the humor last chapter for that matter. I don't write funny stuff that often, but when two brotherly figures like Mark and Roger get together (that should answer one question I have been asked), you can't help but add some humor. Nice, though, isn't it? Some humor here and there. ...RAMBLE! I swear, I am the WORST at rambling now... .


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **I'm starting this chapter Monday Night. It's quite possible I will not finish it until Thursday when finals are over. Oh, shout out to me buddy and new RENT-head companion! KitKat: Hey, Benny! (loads gun) I've got a present for you! Benny: What? –BOOM!- KitKat: -'Spanglish' accent- Go see Akita en doggy HELL! Kiwi: -cracking up- KitKat: Well, he is a bitch.

Note – This is musical based. So Mark doesn't accept his job for Buzzline until Halloween in the musical. Which I like better. So nyeah. :P

.-.-.

**A Thing Like Life – Chapter Six**

There is a soft knocking that seems to wake both of us up from the stunned silence. I stand up suddenly, having been crouched on the floor in silence for who knows how long, going over to my bedroom door and opening it up a crack. A concerned Mimi peeks through the sliver. "Are you two OK in there?"

I blink a few times. "Yeah. Sure." I say over my shoulder, nonchalantly, emotionless, "Rog, it's Mimi."

The springs on my bed squeal as Roger stands up and walks over next to me, opening the door a little wider. "Hey, Meems."

Mimi looks a little less concerned at the sight of Roger as she smiles slightly. I chance a sideways glance in his direction. His expression is utterly unreadable. I can't tell if he's angry, annoyed, scared, wanting to break down completely in Mimi's arms...he isn't showing anything, not even in his steady voice.

I step aside, removing any obstacle Roger had in getting to Mimi. "You go on out."

Roger looks at me for the first time since we started watching the film. His eyes are cloudy, and I still can't tell what he's thinking. That concerns me; even though he's always hid his feelings like this since I met him, it's not often I can't tell what he's thinking or feeling. Does it matter, though? What is there to even comment on after seeing that, old wounds opened up in our hearts we thought we had healed? His voice is still steady though. "Yeah, sure. I'll...be back later." He turns away from me, sensing that if I looked at him a moment longer I would penetrate through his shield he has placed around him to keep me out, though why he put such a wall up I'm not sure...He puts an arm around Mimi's waist, leading her towards the door out of the loft. Mimi gives a quick and confused look over her shoulder at me just before she and Roger disappear around the corner and Roger pulls the door shut behind him.

I sigh, shutting my own bedroom door, crouching back down on the floor, looking through the canisters of film I have left. I find the next canister due to be watched, and find it labeled 5/19/90. I give a sigh of relief. _Maybe I should watch this while Roger's gone._

I pull the canister out of the box, changing the film in the projector, replacing the footage from April Fools with the new roll, hoping that my memory is serving me well in telling me I might be getting a break..._I hope_...

.-.-.

"May Nineteenth, 10 PM, Eastern Daylight Time. At the Life Café. I have invited many people to dinner, and currently it's only Roger and me waiting."

"You know, technically it's 'Roger and _I_'." Roger smirked at me slightly from across the table.

I rolled my eyes at him from behind my camera. "Since when did you become my English teacher?"

"Like that guy, what's-his-name, Professor Kroppe, who flunked you out of English your senior year?" Roger smirked.

I glared at Roger, and then turned away, muttering to myself about how I hated it when he came to my old house when we first met and he talked to my mother and she told him all those stupid stories. I began filming the entrance to the Life Café, knowing that some of the others would be coming soon.

Finally, the first person to arrive. "Enter Ms. Maureen Johnson, drama queen extraordinaire!"

Maureen smiled at me, one of her eyebrows quirked at an odd angle. "What the hell is this, Mark? Why did you and Collins invite all of us here?"

Roger looked at me suspiciously. "Who is 'all of us'?"

I gave Maureen a very nasty look, and then turned the camera to face my suspicious roommate. "I just invited some of the guys..."

Nothing got past Roger. Later I got quite angry at Maureen for messing it all up. "Oh, I get it. You're trying to –"

"Yes, I am, OK?" I grabbed his hand as he angrily stood up, pulling him back down. "Because...just because. Just stay." _Because I'm tired of you and Mimi and Joanne and Maureen always fighting. Angel is sick, and I don't want her last memories of us to be..._

I pushed those thoughts out of my head, knowing I didn't want to think about Angel right now. She had been getting sick since about March, only now Collins had taken her to the hospital. I was worried about her.

I heard the door open again, and I quickly turned my camera to the newcomer, eager to have something to do. "Collins! The next to arrive."

Collins smiled weakly as he took a seat next to me. I could tell something was wrong, but, since I already knew exactly what was wrong, I didn't ask. "Hey, Marky." He ruffled my hair like I was his little brother. I rolled my eyes, straightening out my hair a little bit with my free hand, still filming Collins. I could feel Roger's hard stare boring into the back of my head, and I knew he was mad at me for bringing him here.

I heard the bell of the door ring, and my camera snapped to the door immediately, knowing only two remained, and that sparks would fly the second one of them showed up.

Joanne froze in the doorway, seeing Maureen immediately. She looked at Collins harshly. "Collins, you didn't tell me -"

"HEY, Joanne!" I leapt up immediately, saving Collins at the last minute, filming her. "I heard you got a new client, right?'

Joanne nodded. "Yeah." She gave a sideways glance at Maureen, who was sitting on Roger's other side, and instead chose a seat directly across from me. I didn't let my disappointment that she didn't even try to reconcile with Maureen show as she continued talking to me. "Have you accepted that job from Buzzline?"

I started. "Are you serious? And sell my soul like that?" I heard a soft scoff from Roger from beside me, and I was about to glance at him to see what was up with him when I heard the bell of the door.

I turned my camera to face Mimi, and saw her shivering insanely. In the middle of May. It wasn't even cold outside...

_Oh God...she didn't..._

I heard the chair behind me scrape against the floor, just as Mimi fell to the ground suddenly amid gasps from Maureen and Joanne. Roger was at her side immediately, all thoughts of anger abandoned. My heart leapt, imagining the worst...

"Mimi, are you all right?" Roger sounded so worried...My camera kept filming as I watched my best friend hold Mimi so closely, watching them...

"R-r-roger? Is that y-you?" Mimi was shaking violently. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was wrong with her. I had seen it so many times with Roger, when he was so depended on things he shouldn't have been...

"Yes, Mimi...honey, I'm sorry..." Roger was shaking too, holding her so closely I didn't see how Mimi could breathe.

Mimi's shaking voice rattled out, weak and scared. "Roger...I feel sick..."

Roger had lifted her up almost immediately and began carrying her to the back where the bathrooms were. He didn't even glance at me and my camera, but I saw the look of fear in his eyes. For a moment I worried about Mimi, but I immediately told myself she would be fine. Roger was with her, and he would help her through it.

I turned back to the others. I blinked a few times. Maureen and Joanne were holding each other tightly, watching Roger. Only after Roger had disappeared did they realize what they were doing. They looked at each other for a moment, but neither pulled apart. On the contrary, they were suddenly trapped in an intense kiss that made me blush just watching them. I sat back down, glancing at Collins next to me. He still looked concerned. "What's wrong, Collins?"

Collins sighed, long and loud. "I just...it's not over. Between any of them. Roger is going to be suspicious...and those two won't last long..."

I blushed a little more, as I felt the table shake slightly as the two lesbians began making out on the table. "I hope it doesn't last much longer, or the waiter will kick us out."

Collins rolled his eyes. "You know what I mean." He turned away from me, and I knew that he wasn't done.

I tapped him on the shoulder, and he faced me again. I spoke, a little unsure of myself. "Um, Collins...is everything...I mean, is it all...?"

"Angel's not getting better, if that's what you wanted to know."

I turned away from Collins almost immediately, avoiding looking at Maureen and Joanne. After a long sigh, I turned off my camera.

"_Mark? You in there?"_

_I stand up, going up to the projector, switching it off. "Yeah, Rog. Where did you two go?"_

"_Just got some tea and came back." Roger opened my bedroom door a small bit, leaning into my room and watching me as I took the film I had in there out._

"_Cool." I put the film away, back into the box. Should I be happy I had just seen my friends all reunited? I should be. They had all come back together, all because of an idea of Angel's for me and Collins to invite everybody to the Life Café and have everybody make up. It had worked, hadn't it? ...Everybody had eventually broken up again. Had we only built up their happiness so that it would hurt more later on? The higher you raise them up, the harder they fall..._

"_Mark, you look...weird. What's up?"_

_I look up, and see (for once) a genuinely interested Roger. Or he is genuinely interested for the time being. "Nothing. Really. I, uh...watched some happy footage for a change."_

_Roger blinks, not sure what to say. "Uh...that's cool." We both stand there for a moment, neither sure how to continue. Finally, Roger breaks the silence. "Why don't we...just go out and walk? It's the warmest today it's been all winter, you know. You should...take advantage of it..."_

_I smirk slightly. "Thanks, Rog." I grab my camera bag off of the floor beside my bed, walking out of the door briskly with Roger. "I think I'd like that."_


	7. Finale

**A/N:** I had to basically re-read my ENTIRE fic to reorient myself with what time the present bits were taking place for this chapter. I'm beginning this chapter not exactly sure how I'm gonna end it. See, I'm an actress, and one of my favorite things to do is characterizations. You just become a character. So, that's what I do when I write fanfictions. I jumped into these characters lives and characterize them so I don't mess up. NONE of my chapters are really planned. So, there's an idea in my head telling me this MIGHT be the last chapter. If not, it SHOULD be over soon. Unless these characters decide to mess me up and do some more stuff.

Again, some **language** this chapter, but that's because, as I stated before, I get into character when writing. And Roger happened to feel like dropping an 'f bomb' in the beginning.Seriously, I'm not such a potty mouth in real life! I really hate swearing myself! But Roger doesn't mind it, and I'm not Roger. I just characterize him. ;)

.-.-.

"January 10th, 3 PM, Eastern Standard Time. Walking through the park on the warmest day so far of the winter, and I'm still freezing. Roger and Mimi are a few steps in front of me, holding hands as we walk through the snow."

"Mark, could you turn that off, please?" Mimi looks over her shoulder at me, smiling softly. I look over the camera at her, giving a sort of pouting look (which I imagined would be a good imitation of Maureen) that makes her giggle slightly and roll her eyes, facing forward again, indicating I could continue.

I smirk. "Roger and Mimi: the happy couple; the epitome of pure bliss. Or, when Roger isn't PMSing."

"Mark, turn that fucking piece of shit off." Roger's demand compared to Mimi's request almost makes me laugh out loud, but I restrain myself, switching off the camera and slipping it back into my bag. I've been doing this more and more often lately. I still pull out my camera whenever I spot a good shot, but I don't have it out constantly. I suppose that's a good thing. Mimi looks back over her shoulder at me, rolling her eyes, and I have to suppress another laugh as Roger suddenly begins veering Mimi off to the side of the pathway, leading her to sit down.

I blink. "What? Tired or something?"

Roger blinks a few times as Mimi sat down on the bench. "Actually, Mark...I wanted to talk to you about something."

At first, I'm almost shocked. We haven't just talked about anything (calmly) for quite a while. Not since he came back from Santa Fe, at least. But then it hits me. "Is it about...the footage?"

Roger looks away for a second. "Well...yeah."

Mimi leaps up. "Hey! I just remembered! I left my...Roger's...you're, uh, sweater! Yeah! Roger, you're sweater! Better go get it!" She is gone in a flash, leaving the two of us blinking slightly. After a moment of silence, both of us silently agree to sit down.

Neither of us seem to want to start, but after a prolonged and awkward silence Roger decides to begin. "I...wanted to ask you...why you're really watching those clips. You've just kept saying you have to do it for yourself, and...well, I haven't..."

I hold up a hand, motioning him to let me speak. "I...don't really know much myself anymore."

Roger smirks slightly, a bit of his easier going self showing through. "So, you just thought, 'Hmm, I feel like having an emotional break down today! Why don't I pull out these old clips so that I can throw a fit?'"

I roll my eyes. "Very funny."

Roger laughs lightly, and another awkward silence settles between us. Once again, Roger speaks up first. "But seriously...I haven't really gotten quite yet why you started it in the first place. I know I probably said I did, but...why?"

I look up at him, the confusion in his eyes equally matching my own. "I...can't remember..." I look away from him, trying to remember back to a few days ago. Why was I so compelled to dig into my past and bring back all these painful memories I never wanted to remember?

_... I wonder what life is like, for all my friends. People like Collins, and Roger, and Mimi, and Angel. I really wonder. It's almost frightening to me, a thing like AIDS. Maybe that's why I always hid from the world. I was so afraid of AIDS, and the death that seemed to ensue._

"...Because...I was afraid. Back then. I was afraid of AIDS, and...dying. Back then, before you came back...well, before you left, too." I pause, wondering if he has anything to say to this. I glance at him, and he is simply staring straight forward, and I feel he wants me to continue. "And I realized that, a few days ago. That I was afraid to live life because of how I knew life lead to death for my friends. I was scared...and I decided, a few days ago..."

_I need to face these fears. I can't hide from the world anymore._

"I needed to face that fear. I didn't want to...because keeping away from living my own life, cutting all the scenes that got extremely into AIDS or...well, that were too hard for me to look at, I guess...I was afraid of all the things in those clips. And...I had to face them. If I was going to stop hiding, I needed to face that fear."

There is a long silence that hovers over us. I replay in my head what I have just learned. I didn't realize until just now that was why I was doing it.

Suddenly, Roger speaks. "I think that makes sense. Kinda."

I look at him, an eyebrow raised. Was it that easy for him to understand? He looks up at me, his eyes clear and understanding. "You know, what? I think I was watching those...I think I watched with you for the same reason...without realizing."

I blink a few times. "You sure it wasn't because you would look like a baby if you walked out on it?"

Both of us laugh lightly for a moment, and then Roger shrugs. "I dunno. I think...I think I kept telling myself that, you know. It made more sense. But I think...somehow, I knew I needed to remember those things I had done. I needed to remember that Mimi wasn't the only one I hurt, and I kinda forgot that. And...I think I closed up, too. Around that time. I mean, before New Years, you and me always talked." I nod, deciding I didn't need to give any more confirmation. "And then...well, I guess this is the first time we've talked...without yelling at each other...since then."

I shrug. "I suppose so. I dunno if you closed up, though. Not really."

Roger shrugs as well, shaking his head slightly. "Well, it kinda was. Not like you, but at the same time, almost exactly like you." He looks up at me. "Does that make sense?"

"Clear as a stormy day, Roger."

Roger laughs softly at this. There is a short pause, and then Roger suddenly looks up at me. "Hey, Mark?"

"Huh?"

"Do...do you think you did it?"

I blink multiple times. "...Excuse me?"

"Do you think you've confronted your fear and learned more about how it was for all of us and all that other stuff you said?"

I laugh softly. Only Roger could talk so casually about such a topic. "I dunno. I hope so."

A pause. "I think you have."

I look up at him straight in the eye, and I notice that his eyes are clearer then I can remember them being for ages, the brightest they've been since April. "I think you have, too."

Roger smirks, a short laugh escaping through his lips. "I have too what?"

I shrug, smirking with him. "Opened up a little more and learned how it was for all of _us_..." I laugh softly. "And all that other stuff you said."

Roger laughs back at me, punching my lightly on the shoulder. "Sure. All that other stuff."

There's a peace between us that I haven't felt for quite a while. Both of us know we aren't quite finished on our own journeys through life, no matter about how long they may be. We know there's more, but we know that we've just taken a massive step in the right direction in our own paths.

.-.-.

January 19th, 10 AM, Eastern Standard Time. Roger told me last night he need to borrow some money for something, and when I asked him what for, he said it was for 'jewelry'. I also saw him looking in the phone book as he called up fancy restaurants to see who had the cheapest menus. Mimi still brings in money to put on the table for me and Roger, but she says she might be quitting soon to get a better job somewhere else. Joanne is planning a surprise birthday party for Maureen for right after her brand new protest next weekend and she wants me to buy the candles. (I might have enough for trick candles; that would be entertaining.) Collins might even be able to take a break from trying to infiltrate the virtual reality equipment at NYU to come down for the party. Hell, Benny might even come, but he'll probably just end up pestering us for the rent. Everybody is going on with their own wonderful lives.

And me? Me? Not sure where my life is going yet. But it's gonna be exciting.

.-.-.

**A/N:** What a happy ending, no? Guess what? This is the second out of innumerable multiple chapter fics on that I have actually FINISHED! WOW! And it's a RENT fic! What an honor for RENT! Mind you, it was only seven chapters, but I still consider it an achievement! My brain wants to actually continue, but it'll probably be another series, and I need to figure out what my brain wants to do anyways, since I have no idea. IT'S RANDOM. Just because of my closing line, it's like 'CONTINUE! CONTINUE!' And I'm like, NO! We've already finished! STOP! 'KEEP GOING! MORE! MOOOORE!' My brain has a mind of its own. XXXXDDDD (No, I'm not a schitzo. We just like to have fun. XXXDDD JOKING! JOKING!)

P.S. 'Where Is My Life Going?' is Part II of Mark's Life series. You can find it at http/ 


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